Monthly Archives: January 2016

“Thou shalt not have any other gods before me.” Exodus 20:3

Warning: this will not be my most popular GraceWaves.

Eight of the Ten Commandments begin with “Thou shalt not.” (I like the sturdy King James language here). The two that are formed in a “positive” manner are keep the Sabbath holy and honor your parents.

The so-called negative casting of the commandments is off-putting to many people, as is the Old Testament in general. So much so to some, that they follow the lead of the second century scholar Marcion who flatly rejected the Old Testament and said that the God of Jesus is the real one.

Marcion was wrong, of course. We need the Old Testament. Its traditions date back more than 3000 years. And it’s a terrible mistake to claim that grace and love are the provenance of the New Testament only. The earliest books of the Old Testament are full of references to God as abounding in steadfast love, patience, and kindness. Grace flows from the pages of the first section of the Bible. In fact, the most radical and even irrational portrayal of unconditional love in the Bible is the book of Hosea. No, Jesus was not the Son of a new God. He was the Son of the God of Abraham, Issac, and Jacob.

I’ll be the first to admit that wading through the legal sections of the Old Testament is tedious and not especially helpful in the particulars. We are not bound to keep all the laws of Leviticus, for example, but I do claim there is a tremendous value is seeing how the people were to “work God into” the most minute details of life. I need that. But sticking with the larger picture, we must take time to hear the “Thou shalt nots” of scripture. Let me suggest a few reasons why.

First, Jesus said He did not come to abolish the law, and that we must not relax any of it (Matt. 5:17, 19). I start with this because some people fall in love with the Sermon on the Mount, for example, and assume it’s all we need. I hear the sentiment, but pay close attention to what you read there. Jesus said the law is important.

That leads to my second observation: the law serves a vital purpose in our development of faith and ultimately of grace. Law provides moral and spiritual structure to our lives and introduces us most clearly to our place in the universe. We must first relate rightly to God and to other people, and that is certainly the aim of law.

There are plainly some things I need to not do if I’m going to have a joyful and meaningful life. I need to not create gods in my image. I need to not steal, or lie, or kill, or engage in adultery. The law does limit our freedom. It limits our misery.

The law is a radical taming of the ego. To stick with Freudian language for a bit, ego left to its own devices never evolves into superego. It inevitably submits to the riotous id. Grace does win the day eventually, but first we need direction and strength lest we simply become grace-abusers. We need law to get us where we really want to go. Richard Rohr put it this way, “You ironically need very strong ego structures to let go of the ego” (Falling Upward, p. 45). The law provides that.

Without question, we do not want to stay in the legal, formative stage. We need to move on to the purest grace, but only after establishing the parameters of law. It is a paradox, but surely you’ve noticed that matters of faith and spirit are full of those! Bottom line, you can’t sit and listen to the Sermon on the Mount without first bowing at Mt. Sinai.

This is why I issued my warning at the beginning of this week’s edition. At a very fundamental level, we just don’t like to be told what we can and cannot do. But chances are there are some things I need to stop doing, and some things I need to start doing. I think you all can join me in that conviction. So this may not be my most popular GraceWaves, but it is likely to be the most necessary.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

January 31, 2016

“Neither do I condemn you.” John 8:11

Shame. That must have been the main feeling of the woman caught in adultery when she was dragged before Jesus. She had been caught in the very act by men who probably set her up as a test for this new rabbi with His notions of grace and easy ways with sinners. “Let’s see how he handles someone who is clearly guilty!”

The woman was actually guilty. Of course, equally so was the man, the ostensibly married man. It does take two to tango, or to commit adultery. We never hear anything about him. But let’s be clear, if we focus solely on the woman and her conduct, she broke a commandment. This is not trivial. Sins hurt people. Mainly they hurt the sinner.

So shame does serve a good purpose when it alerts us that we are out of alignment with God and His purpose for us. But let’s be careful even with this idea.

One of the great misconceptions about sin is that it simply offends God that we broke one of His rules, that we make Him angry. This upward concept of sin, that we must avoid making God angry, is so far from the truth. What God wants us to avoid is hurting ourselves and other people. He loves us so deeply, and He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to us. Sin hurts, and when all spiritual systems are working correctly shame creates humility and brings us back into alignment with God. That’s good shame.

The focus of the story in John 8, however, isn’t on good shame. The focus isn’t really on the notion of “go and sin no more.” That’s not a bad point at all. I just don’t think it’s the main point.

The real focus is on how God handles our shame.

Think of the scene where all the men have dropped their rocks and dispersed. The woman stood before Jesus. Now we know more than she did, and what we know is very important. Jesus would later say “if you have seen Me, you have seen the Father” (John 14:9). So the woman was standing, drenched in shame, real, accurate, appropriate shame, before God.

What happened next? You know the story. Jesus, removed her shame. “Neither do I condemn you.” God did not condemn her.

If you’re dealing with real shame, then you need to hear the heart of the gospel. God is not the giver of shame. He is the remover of shame. “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.” Be free, even of good shame. God delights in doing this for us!

But what about bad shame? This is the shame that comes from other people, that has nothing to do with your actions, but ends up shaping your identity. Bad shame is the chronic condemnation by people who should have loved and affirmed you. Bad shame is the actions of others that somehow make you feel dirty, or worthless, or humiliated. Bad shame is the rejection by those who should be embracing you.

Bad shame is a whispered guilt. The first two letters sound like a secret. “Shhh! Don’t tell. Don’t repeat.”

Bad shame is also a shouted verdict. “FOR SHAME! Don’t every forget what you have done!”

I believe bad shame is far more prevalent than good shame. It is a drenching condemnation we carry around with us. It goes to the very heart of our identities, isolates us, and holds us back in a thousand different ways. It is a quintessential soul-sickness.

And that brings me back to the woman. What happened after the story ended? It’s not hard to imagine. The woman was free. Free from fear, guilt, and shame and all of this directly from God. Wonderful!

Now what about all the people in her community? Do you think they really had a spiritual insight to their own shame? Do you think they embraced and shared grace? I seriously doubt it.

The woman turned from a gracious God to a still condemning community. I doubt anything changed. They still thought of her as an adulteress. I imagine she was marginalized for the remainder of her life by most people who knew her story.

Shame is an easy currency. People throw it around and spend it at others' expense all the time. You likely have been the target. But just because someone throws shame at you doesn’t mean you have to stand still and let it hit you. That sums up the decision the woman had to make. She still lived in the village where people had falsely accused her. Would she listen to the critics who reminded her of her failures? Or would she listen to the God who reminded her of her future? These are questions we must all consider.

It’s an enormously difficult task, an act of sustained will, to block out the voices that shout bad shame. The good news is the Bible so powerfully depicts a God who bears away shame. You may be feeling shame from past chapters of your life, but if you have asked God’s forgiveness then you have it. The bad shame you carry? Let God take that away too. It’s not yours. It comes from broken people who inflict you with pain from their wounds. It’s not yours. Never was.

I was recently reminded of some sound theology from Rascal Flatts. It applies to shame, good and bad. “I’ve been burdened with blame (shame), trapped in the past for too long. I’m movin’ on.” That’s the gospel in action. That's the full effect of grace.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis

January 26, 2016

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all encouragement, who encourages us in all our affliction so that we may be able to encourage those who are in any affliction.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

The main purpose of GraceWaves is to encourage folks by inviting them more deeply into God’s grace. My eye, therefore, naturally gravitates to passages that depict God’s grace being dispensed to struggling saints, and the Bible is full of such examples.

The key word in the passage above is encouragement, and is from the Greek word paraclesis. Paraclesis is the name Jesus gave to the Spirit, i.e. the Paraclete, in John 14:16 and 26. The word means one who comforts (so the Holy Spirit is referred to as The Comforter). Often translators use comfort in the 2 Corinthians passage, and I cannot fault that translation.

However, the word paraclesis, and its verbal forms, also has the meaning of encouragement and exhortation. It also has the nuance of beseeching. Comfort connotes tender compassion, and we certainly all need God to take us into His arms and comfort us.

But God’s aim is not merely to comfort. He encourages, exhorts, and beseeches us to return to the game, as it were. In fact, Paul’s idea here is to gain encouragement from God so that we may seek out others with whom we share this encouragement. Encouragement has a goal beyond mere comfort, and that is why I prefer that translation. It's something we share.

Paul’s letters to the Corinthians reflect both his need for encouragement and his commitment to encourage. He wrote from personal experience in which he faced discouragement in three main areas: circumstances, vocation, and relationships. These areas of discouragement can threaten to overwhelm any of us. Paul faced each one, and God taught him something important.

Circumstances. Paul wrote of a mysterious but harrowing experience in which he and his companions were so “utterly and unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself” (2 Cor. 8). This occurred in Asia, and while we don’t have the details, something happened so traumatic that he felt he had “received the sentence of death.”

I know what it's like to despair of life itself, as many of you can. How you emerge on the other side of the events depends on you. For Paul he learned from a tragic circumstance “to rely not on ourselves, but on God who raises the dead” (2 Cor. 1:8-10). God encouraged him. Paul survived and returned to strengthen churches and write letters.

Vocation. In 2 Corinthians 4, Paul wrote about “this treasure” (v. 7) which was his calling and vocation as an apostle. He firmly believed God had called and gifted him to do what he was doing. But he was not always received well. He felt he had failed many times. As a result he felt “afflicted,” “perplexed,” “persecuted,” and “struck down” (4:8-9). But for each challenge God provided encouragement so that Paul was “not crushed,” “not driven to despair,” “not forsaken,” and “not destroyed.” Once again he learned more deeply to rely on the transcendent power that belongs to God (v.7).

Relationships. Betrayal and rejection were consistent themes in Paul’s correspondence with the Corinthians. He was not their favorite preacher (1 Cor. 1:12). Some said he could write well but not speak well, and that he was not very good looking! (2 Cor. 10:10). Others claimed he was not a “real apostle” and thus inferior (2 Cor. 11:5). I could cite many other passages to convince you that Paul had a very rough time with people he loved and depended on. People he counted on disappointed him, but in these weak moments of despair he learned that God’s grace is perfected in weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).

You can relate to every area of discouragement cited. You might be in the middle of a difficult time in which you don’t see a way forward, or have lost a job, or have needless struggles with people you thought you could trust and rely on. God encourages you. He will give you the comfort you need, but He also exhorts you to keep pushing ahead and use your gifts and opportunities.

When Gregory was about 5, I was putting decking in our attic. Of course, he wanted to help nail, so I set a few nails for him to work on while I continued in another area. Squatting down and swinging the hammer with two hands, he was making steady progress every third strike or so. On one backswing, however, he hit his forehead with the back of the hammer. He dropped it and ran to me, burying his face in my chest, crying, and rubbing the small bump forming right above his eyes.

I hugged him, and told him I had hit various parts of my body on countless occasions. As I continued to try and console him, he pushed away from me, went back and picked up the hammer, and finished driving the nail. He then came back to my embrace, again rubbing his head, and said, “I wasn’t going to quit.”

Comfort helps you to feel better. Encouragement helps you to do better. While God certainly does want to comfort us, I believe His main goal is to encourage us to reenter the fray. The affliction you face is common to all people, and God is with you to strengthen and console you. But He also wants you to get back to life. You have His encouragement. Now go and encourage someone else this week.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis
January 15, 2016

“For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in His steps.” 1 Peter 2:21

Peter wrote the verse above some thirty years after walking through Israel with Jesus. He obviously had come to a point in his life when he realized that only by giving do we really receive. The way of service is the way out from under the crushing weight of self-centeredness. At this late point in his life, Peter understood. But it was not always this way.

Look back a few years in his life, and you will find him on a road leading south to Jerusalem. Jesus walked ahead. The disciples grouped behind him were speaking among themselves, sometimes a little too loudly. When they stopped for the day, Jesus calls them to him and asked, “What were you talking about as we walked?” They did not want to say, because they were talking about who was greatest.

I imagine Peter was right in the middle of that discussion, nominated himself and seconded the nomination. Jesus knew that Peter was a self-made man. He knew that Peter was the kind that would work hard at establishing himself and getting his way. Jesus must have also trusted that he would later discover that he had gone down the wrong road.

So Jesus tried to get through to this hard-headed disciple and his companions. “If any of you wants to be first he must be last of all and servant of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many.” It does not make sense from any worldly perspective, but you must realize that you will never have any sense of significance until you find it serving others.

Jesus underscored this point so many times in his teaching. He spoke of a truth that will set you free (John 8:31-32). Here it is. It is found in following Him and serving as He served. He said many times and in many ways that in order to find real life you must be willing to let go of that life you thought was so precious and important. It is only in letting go of all your definitions of importance that you will find true significance. It is only through meekness that you inherit the earth.

Douglas Coupland, author of several self-help books writes that ultimately self-help never works. He wrote, “Now—here is my secret. I tell it to you with an openness of heart that I doubt I shall ever achieve again, so I pray that you are in a quiet room as you hear these words. My secret is that I need God—that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love.” (Life After God, p. 359)

Are you self-made? We all try at least for a while until we run up against the futility of trying to live in our own strength, according to our own will, fulfilling our own desires. Broken by life and by our own broken promises we fall to our knees, and say “Thy will be done.” Then we turn back to life and find it full and meaningful as we serve others.

Grace,

Dr. Terry Ellis
January 9, 2016

Then the Lord God said to the woman, “what is this that you have done?” Genesis 3:13

It’s been quite a while since I’ve read the Bible from first to last. I’ve been a pretty good Bible reader and studier for years, contractually or vocationally obligated I suppose. But reading in order to “get something to preach or teach” is far different from reading the Bible simply out of a desire to experience God through the written Word.

Years ago I heard or read the advice from a fellow minister that all of us in the profession needed to read regularly the Bible with a “no fishing” policy. That is, read it without looking for the next great sermonic insight, or sermon series. I found that difficult. I was often fishing.

So this new year, being a couple of months removed from the usual pastoral expectations, I decided to read the Bible from first to last, the way any normal curious person might. You start a book at the beginning and read it through.

I hasten to add here, that I would NEVER recommend this method for the typical, first-time, curious reader. The biblical pathway is littered with the desiccated ideals of countless well-intentioned folks who set out in Genesis and died with a whimper in Leviticus. If you’re reading the Bible for the first time start with the gospels. Get to know Jesus, and read the rest of the Bible through His eyes.

However, I do feel sufficiently qualified to begin at the beginning.

Among the many wonderful insights in the Creation story, my mind settled on The Fall, or as I prefer to call it, The Breaking. God had created a world that was good, from first to last. In fact it was very good. Then our progenitors decided that their will was more important than God’s. The freedom to choose turned inward, and the whole race suffers from the suffocating weight of limitless self-centeredness. God made the world good. We broke it, and still are.

What came to mind in particular though was the rather amusing, if it weren’t so tragic, lineage of blame. God: What happened Adam? Adam: This woman you gave me gave me the fruit. God to Eve: What have you done? Eve: The serpent beguiled me.

The first, and most common, of all human responses to any problem: “It’s not my fault.” It’s as old as Eden.

A true spiritual awakening and the maturing of that spirit depends first and foremost on the reversal of this primordial excuse. We take complete responsibility for ourselves, refusing to lay blame on people or conditions around us. Only then can we be free of that terrible selfishness that holds us down.

As hard as it is to accept, no one can make you do or feel anything. I know that immediately we can come up with all sorts of exceptions, but this axiom applies even at the extreme limits of suffering and injustice.

Victor Frankl, three years in a Nazi concentration camp, observed that initially robust and healthy people had no better chance of surviving the ordeal than the more frail prisoners. What made the true difference was the attitude one brought to his or her suffering. “The last of all human freedoms,” he wrote, “is the ability to determine how you will respond to a given set of circumstances.” In other words, we choose. We always choose.

How does this apply to Adam and Eve’s story? I’m not sure how different the course of human history would be had they accepted complete responsibility and said, “we really blew it,” but I do know that the damnable tendency to refuse responsibility for our choices distances us much further from God than the choices themselves. Clinging to our pitifully twisted need to be right, embracing our personal myths of unbroken success, and refusing to accept our own brokenness we block the flow of grace into our lives. Confession never brings God’s rebuke. We fear, as usual, what does not exist.

Even after the banishment from Eden we get a glimpse of God’s tender mercy. Genesis 3:21 states that God made garments from animal skins and clothed His broken children. That’s quite an image. God sewing together clothes for Adam and Eve. The only other place in the creation story where God used touch is when He formed Adam and Eve. Every other creature He spoke into existence. We see God’s gentle and very personal love in our creation and care.

Which reminds me of another Frankl quote: “The salvation of Man is through love and in love.” Frankl wrote that, but God authored it from the very beginning.

We can all drop the flimsy facades of perfection, and the sooner the better. No sin I’ve committed has ever caused the entire human race to fall from grace, so I think God can handle whatever I’ve done. I don’t need to blame anyone else, worry about someone’s opinion, or forever shrink in shame because of my own fall. I take responsibility for my own actions and choices, and right or wrong I will be open to God for wisdom and grace.

Happy New Year!

Dr. Terry Ellis
January 3, 2016